Audio Version of Snowflakes
September 26, 2007
I went kayaking on the pond yesterday afternoon to enjoy some of the first autumn colors. Unfortunately, my attention was continually diverted to all the trash that people (mostly fisherfolk) left behind after pursuing their avocation. I do pond cleanup every couple of months from ice-out to ice-in. If I didn’t do this regularly, the pond would be a disaster area (I remember the first trash pickup I did on the pond 7 years ago yielded about 30 pounds of trash.) So, being the only steward of the pond that I know of, I picked up trash for a few hours; bottles here, cans there, some fishing line with hook attached, lures with hooks, lures without hooks, bobbers, and more bobbers, bait containers, and food wrappers strewn hither and yon, from the shore’s edge to several feet underwater.
As I was paddling and searching for trash, I thought of Aristotle who wrote, “that which is common to the greatest number [of people] has the least care bestowed upon it.” How true it is…and this quote from a man who lived from 384 BC to 322 BC. It seems that Man has not evolved much in terms of caring for the Earth over all these years. And, as our population blossoms, more and more trash gets left behind. Oh, how I pray for social responsibility to take hold of the masses as the Earth heads toward massive over population. Each one of us must do our best to take care of our precious little piece of the planet. Hmmm…my students would tell you that we should all be interacting parts that act as a whole, a system of humanity that strives to save the only planet we will ever have the pleasure to live on and call home. If only this were so…
Audio Version of Good Steward
September 16, 2007
I felt as though I had returned home after a long absence. A gaping void was filled, a few tears flowed, and they are still flowing.
I was filled with a sense of belonging that I have not felt for many years. I also sensed the spirit of my father by my side, nodding approval to all he saw.
And, what he saw was that I was surrounded by people of like mind…environmentalists from all over New England…150 strong, gathering to try and make the world a better place to live in…to “Build Bridges: Creating Change for a Common Good”…
Parts of quotes as I scribbled rapidly during keynotes and workshops: Rachel Carson, “If a child is to keep an interest in nature, he must have an adult to share his excitement.” Tom Wessels, “No system can grow uncontrollably and remain sustainable.” “Cell phones have a much higher carbon footprint than laptop computers.” “We must become a community of less consumption or anxiety and depression take place / more computer time yields less reflective time with lots of input but experientially poor.” Alisa Gravitz, “Affirm and re-double your commitment to living lightly on Earth.” “Whenever a dollar leaves your hand, it has an impact.” “Buy intentionally / Buy Green / Buy Local.” Chesapeake Bay Foundation, “No Child Left Inside.”
Inspirational… values affirmations…humbling…eye-opening…dedication to a cause…dedication to a way of life…dedication to helping all living things…dedication to the creation of worldwide sustainability…making a difference locally and globally…happy feet…happy faces…dancing bodies…laughter…applause…appreciation…
Maine Environmental Education Association, New England Environmental Education Alliance, Audubon, Chewonki, Four Winds Nature Institute, Maine DEP, Ferry Beach Ecology School, Univ. New Hampshire Climate Change Research Center, Co-op America, Auburn land Lab, Center for Whole Communities, Maine Primitive Skills Schools, Hands-On Boat-Based Education & Science, White Pines Program, Audubon Expedition Institute, Kroka Expeditions of Vermont, Antioch University…to name a few of the presenting organizations at the conference. Powerhouses of environmentalism all in one great location at Camp Matoaka in Smithfield, Maine.
Audio Version of Live Lightly
June 27, 2007
In this modern computerized world, there appears to be less and less time for people to enjoy the outdoors . Everyone seems to be in a hurry, and a general disconnect is evident as people always seem to be plugged into some device or other. When I am outdoors, I continually want to have use of all my senses to fully appreciate the natural world.
I want to hear the warbling of the birds, the buzzing of the bees, the knock-on-wood sound of the pileated woodpeckers as they search for insects high up in the trees. Then, there are the subtler sounds like the rustle of leaves, the soft babbling of the brook, the violin-like creaking of one tree trunk against another as they sway in the wind. All of that would be lost to me if I had an MP3 player blasting music into my ears.
I try to wear odor-free sunscreen and insect repellent (if possible) when walking in the woods because I want to take full advantage of all the fresh scents that are wafting in the breeze. My favorite scent is that of sap, be it pine, or birch, or maple. That scent is what defines a forest for me, and it is different from place to place. A forest in Maine smells differently from one in Florida, or in Colorado, for example.
I want to experience the texture of the tree trunks, the coolness of the minerals in the rocks of the river bed, and the ridges of the blades of a sedge. I cannot do that if I am always power walking, so I try to slow down my pace periodically and immerse myself in my surroundings.
What better way to immerse yourself in your surroundings than by tasting the bounty that Mother Earth has to offer. Succulent raspberries and sweet, low bush blueberries are nice and ripe out in the forest and on the rocky ridges. I’ve had both, just this week, on my travels through hill and dale.
Hey! It’s late and I’ve got to go outside, use my sense of sight, and do a little stargazing. Enough of this computer! Aughhh…light pollution! Save some energy and turn off those outside lights at night.
Audio Version of Losing Touch.
August 22, 2006
It was an early August morning
and a low mist hung still over the pond.
The water surface was glassy smooth as I paddled
to a shallow, sheltered portion of the south shore.
There was something different about the water surface here.
It was covered with tiny bubbles.
I sat and pondered this anomaly.
Could it be that the mud was out-gassing for some reason?
No.
So, what then?
I scanned the surface of the water, and then I saw it.
A ripple.
Then, a snapping turtle snout appeared,
exhaled and took in fresh air, then sank again.
A few seconds later the turtle looked as if it were doing
a headstand in the water.
Ooh, I thought, “It’s catching fish.”
No…that’s not it.
Because now there are two shells,
belly to belly with sharp, clawed feet
clinging to each of them.
Then, two heads appeared.
Lots of twisting and turning,
dunking and surfacing.
Ohhhh….they must be flirting with each other!
Then, two hours later,
after traversing a large part of the shallows,
still in a clumsy embrace,
all became quiet.
Mating had begun.
Snapping turtle love.
Audio Version of Snapping Turtle Love.
August 20, 2006 - aka: The Greatest Man in My Life
Today is the 3rd anniversary of the death of my beloved father, Eugene F. Cleversey (aka Dad, aka Beansie). It is a rainy day today and I feel as if the skies are weeping along with me. This is always the most somber day of the year for me as I miss him very much. But…I do not want to feel sad all day, so I think of things about Dad that make me smile. I’ll share a few of these memories with you.
Memory 1: Dad would take our family toboganning, in a kamikaze fashion, down the far end of Lake Mac Gregor in Mahopac, NY, when I was a child. This was always semi-suicidal as we had to dodge trees before reaching the bottom of the hill. He brought out the dare devil in us all. And, then again, maybe this is why I have panic attacks when I drive a car! Hmmm … food for thought;-)
Memory 2: Dad absolutely loved living in Florida. When we moved there he decided that he was never going to wear long pants again (except to work at IBM, and only because they were rather stuffy about their dress code policy). So…we have photos of Dad in a dress jacket and shirt with bow tie, and shorts! This was his standard fancy dinner dress/going to funerals dress/ public speaking dress!
Memory 3: Dad loved to eat. He had a true appreciation of food, any food, especially if he could find it out in nature because it was free. One day, in the early ‘70’s, we took a nature walk somewhere in South Florida where we lived. Dad had heard that the fruit of the prickly pear cactus was edible. So, upon finding the fruit of several cacti, he carefully broke off the fruit without getting spines in his fingers, and put the fruits in his shirt pocket. Unbeknownst to Dad, the fruits of the prickly pear cacti also have prickly spines on them that are very small and not very evident upon casual observation. We continued our walk, and after awhile Dad was complaining of pain on his chest. He had lots of tiny, prickly spines embedded in his chest! This is one of those life lessons that he learned once and never forgot: “Not all free food is easy to come by!” And, to top it off, the darned cactus fruit wasn’t even that tasty! Dad never lived that one down. We still laugh about it.
Memory 4: Dad loved to go boating, just like his father, although he wasn’t quite as knowledgeable as his father. He and Mom bought a catamaran soon after moving to Florida. What a great boat it was. We were able to keep it at a friend’s house right next to the beach, in Boca Raton, where we resided. One gorgeous summer day we decided to all go sailing. When we got to the beach, we scanned the ocean and observed that there were no boats out. We thought this rather odd because the ocean looked nice and calm. What fools everyone else was to be missing out on such a beautiful day on the ocean! We shoved off and sailed out from shore. The farther out we got, the bigger the swells became, and the faster the current flowed. We decided we had better go back in as the ocean was rougher than we had imagined. So, we turned around and tacked for shore. The only problem was that we were now too far south of our starting point to be able to beach the boat near our put-in. We had to time our landing with the swells and surf. We almost ended up tipping end for end, but were able to jump off and pull the boat to shore just in the “TaDa…nick of time!” But, not before the front of the pontoons had slammed into the shallows with our stern standing almost vertical, and our mast snapping in two. Then, we had to drag the very heavy boat for probably a quarter mile up the beach. We learned that the locals knew a lot more about the ocean than we did!
Memory 5: Dad was a passionate environmentalist. He truly practiced what he preached. He instilled a love of nature in me that will never fade. He taught me to stand up for what I believe and to care about the planet we live on. It is because of he and my mother that I became a science teacher. They both allowed me to be “me” in every sense of the word. Our freezer was always filled with dead/frozen creatures (mixed in with Mom’s “secret stash” of chocolate), there was a lizard graveyard in the flower garden, and larger “road kill” animals were buried here and there throughout the yard for unearthing after their bones had been cleaned by ants (unfortunately, I forgot to mark most of the burial sites and whoever bought our Florida house probably found some interesting remains, because I never did;-). So…here’s to the greatest man in my life—my father. Cheers, Dad!
